


how can this loser ever win?

by sassy_ninja



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Flirting, Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Spoilers for the Manga, This is complete and utter crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25403458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_ninja/pseuds/sassy_ninja
Summary: Hajime is the new athletic trainer for the Japanese Men's National Volleyball team and everyone there is honestly really weird. They keep on asking for his help with basic stretches and make him open water bottles for them and get things off high shelves and take photos of his arms when they think he isn't looking. Oikawa thinks it's because they all have a crush on him and Hajime tells him not to be so stupid (but Oikawa is right, as usual).oreveryone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no ideaspoilers for the manga!
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Everyone, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 67
Kudos: 641





	how can this loser ever win?

**Author's Note:**

> ok so I saw this [tweet](https://twitter.com/oikawaluvbot/status/1284914675579146240?s=20) and I just fucking had to write it this is 100% crack and also 100% canon I absolutely refuse to see it any other way. iwaizumi is just a beautiful oblivious man who is very much in love with oikawa and just thinks that everyone in the national team r bit weird. anyways pls enjoy! title is taken straight from atsumu's gay pining playlist aka my gay pining playlist aka how can you mend a broken heart by al green

“How was your first day, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice is tinny through the screen. Hajime smiles at his bed hair, it’s a twelve-hour time difference exactly so just as he’s getting home from work, Oikawa is waking up for training.

“It was good, I was just getting to know the team today,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes when he sees that glint in Oikawa’s eyes. They’re not having this discussion again, the one about how Hajime is training up Oikawa’s enemies to try and defeat him, but Oikawa still grumbles something under his breath that gets lost somewhere in the static over the Pacific Ocean. Hajime wants to lean through the screen and kiss the stupid thoughts out of him.

“Mnn, how are my rivals?” Oikawa asks, the screen blurs as he walks through his apartment, getting ready for the day. He props his phone up on the bathroom counter and throws up a peace sign, presenting all of his skincare products to the camera like he’s a beauty vlogger whilst Hajime pretends he doesn’t find it funny.

“They’re uh – actually they’re all really weird,” he frowns, he thinks about his day today working with the supposed ‘monster generation’ that he’d heard about since he was in high school. He’s worked with his own fair share of high-strung athletes but nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the group of complete weirdos that have somehow gathered in the men’s national volleyball team.

As soon as he’d walked into the room the blond setter, Atsumu had sprayed a mouthful of some blue sports drink all over the wall, Hinata couldn’t stop tripping over his words when he introduced himself he called himself Kageyama Tobio and Kageyama himself went so red when Hajime patted him on the back that he was half sure he might be having a heart attack. On top of that none of them seemed to be able to do even the most basic stretches without Hajime’s help, he really needs to talk to their coach about just who their previous athletic trainer was.

“It sounds like they just think you’re hot,” Oikawa says, voice garbled through his electric toothbrush.

“Don’t be stupid, why the hell would they think that?” Hajime scowls, they’re all professionals and it’s not like they haven’t seen people like him before. He’s pretty plain, but he has a nice body he supposes.

Oikawa spits and grins, mouth covered in toothpaste, “I don’t mind if they think you’re hot, Iwa-chan, if you were my trainer I’d make you help me with _all_ my stretches too. I’d stick my ass out and be like ‘ _oh Iwaizumi-san please help me open this water bottle with your big strong muscles, thank you Iwaizumi-san, oh Iwaizumi-san I can’t reach that thing on that high shelf please lean over me with your muscular sexy body and get it for me’_.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay as long as you know who you belong to,” he winks and Hajime opens his mouth to complain, “okay, okay I gotta go, Iwa-chan! I love you!”

And he hangs up, leaving Hajime sitting alone in his bedroom with his phone in his hands and he scowls. He didn’t even get to say ‘I love you’ back – god, Oikawa can be such an ass.

The next day at work he promptly forgets about Oikawa’s stupid theory because that’s all it is: a stupid theory. This is his job, of course they want his help to stretch and give them tips on their form when lifting and adjust their posture, that’s his job. Maybe they moan a little too much when he helps them with their leg stretches, but he’s pretty sure that’s just Atsumu.

Anyways speak of the devil, as soon as he walks into the gym Atsumu suddenly manages to launch himself through the air and towards the ground right by Hajime’s feet, he only barely manages to grab him before he cracks his head open.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Atsumu breathes out, fluttering his eyelashes, “you caught me.”

“Uh no problem, Atsumu-san. Try to be more careful next time,” he shrugs and frowns a little when Atsumu squeezes his bicep and then immediately scuttles over to where the rest of the team are clustered in a circle, staring at him. As soon as they notice he’s seen them all of their heads shoot down and they start whispering furiously. As he said before, a group of absolute weirdos.

It gets weirder as time goes on, one day at the end of their training session Ushijima walks up to him with a very solemn expression and a water bottle in his hand. “Iwaizumi-san, please will you help me open this?” he asks deadpan and Hajime really has to take a second.

“You want me to open a water bottle for you?” he repeats, blinking fast. Firstly because everyone in the team has their own reusable bottles (all free _and_ branded) and secondly because how the hell can the canon of Japan not open his own water bottle?

“He – uh, he’s too strong,” Bokuto chirps in, staring a little too intensely at Hajime’s arms, “his hands just crush the bottle.”

“Yes, I cannot open bottles because of my… strength,” Ushijima says slowly, still holding the bottle out.

“Not that you’re not strong, you’re so strong,” Hinata appears out of nowhere and Hajime has to stop himself from jumping, “you’re just delicate as well, not that you’re delicate it’s just that–”

Hajime takes the bottle and opens it quickly before Hinata can dig himself any deeper and he doesn’t mention how Ushijima could have just asked Bokuto or Hinata or literally anyone else instead.

“Here,” he says and for a second everyone is frozen, he thinks he hears someone sigh.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san,” Ushijima says too quickly, bowing far deeper than necessary and the three of them practically sprint away.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Atsumu wails from across the room where he’s lying with his legs opened wide, “I need help with my adductor stretch again.”

He just shakes his head and jogs over, already building a lecture in his head about how Atsumu has been really focusing on his leg stretches lately and wonders if he’s got a muscle injury. Perhaps he’s got a muscle injury that he’s not telling anyone about, he’ll have to keep an eye on him.

The rest of the months counting down to the Olympics are spent pretty much like this, sometimes when he really works them down to the bone the weirdness stops for a while, but Atsumu somehow always seems to have energy. He reminds Hajime of Oikawa in the weirdest way, the way they both act like petulant children sometimes and Oikawa is not very happy about that analogy.

“You come all the way to Argentina just to insult me, Iwa-chan is so mean,” he squawks and Hajime just laughs, pushing him back down onto the bed.

“Shut up, Tooru,” he says as he leans over. Oikawa opens his mouth to complain some more, but then whatever he was going to say gets cut off by a breathy gasp.

Hajime spends the day after New Year vomiting into the tiny air sickness bags on a plane and thinks that somehow even when he touches down in Tokyo with knees wobbling like a baby deer this was all worth it.

“Iwaizumi-san,” he hears someone call his name from across the gym and surprisingly it’s not actually one of the usual troublemakers (Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata and surprisingly Kageyama who always seems to somehow get looped into their schemes), “can you help me?”

“What’s up?” he smiles at Yaku and Hoshiumi who seems to somehow be vibrating in place.

“I can’t reach that towel, it’s too high,” Yaku says calmly and points at a towel that is indeed on a suspiciously high shelf, one that looks definitely like it’s been thrown there seconds earlier.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it for you,” he says and it’s just out of his normal reach, he has to stretch onto his tiptoes to get it.

“Thank you so much, Iwaizumi-sa–”

“Is that a ring?” Hoshiumi spits out, staring at the silver ring on Hajime’s hand. He blinks, he’d been wondering if he should have worn it or not, he doesn’t even think that most people at work knew that he was dating someone, but Oikawa had wheedled him into it. He likes it as well, it feels right somehow to see his hand wearing it.

“Oh yeah – I got engaged over the break,” he says and the room goes so quiet he thinks he could probably hear someone’s sweat dripping off their face.

“You’re engaged?” Atsumu stutters out and he staggers like he’s been shot, fist clutched to his chest.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu, stay strong,” Bokuto whispers, wrapping a hand around his shoulder.

“Congratulations,” Sakusa manages to choke out and there’s a garbled chorus of agreement, before everyone very stiffly shuffles into a huddle in the corner of the room, once in a while lifting their heads and staring at him before ducking down again.

He just shakes his head, after so long working with them you would think that he would be immune to this kind of weirdness by now, but apparently that was very, very wrong. Yaku didn’t even end up taking the towel.

* * *

BONUS:

“Iwaizumi-san,” Atsumu half wails, sprawled across the floor, “where is he? If he doesn’t press his delicious muscled chest against my back to help me stretch I’m gonna get a cramp halfway through the match and die.”

“Do your own stretches, idiot,” Sakusa scoffs, but he’s looking as well, really the entire team have their heads up scanning like meerkats across the warm-up arena.

Normally before matches Iwaizumi hovering over them like a hawk or a very persistent rainstorm, but today there was something especially nervous about the way he was sitting on the bus to the stadium. It was strange and the tension in his shoulders really made his shirt sleeves strain which Hoshiumi had very dutifully taken a photo of and sent it to their groupchat.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hajime jogs towards them out of breath, “I was uh, catching up with a friend. Who needs help stretching?”

There’s a very big bruise just above his collarbone he hopes is hidden by his shirt, but he catches Kageyama staring at him with a tomato red face and possibly steam coming out of his ears. Well, shit, hopefully they think that his imaginary wife is at the stadium to support.

They definitely do not think that at the end of the match when Argentina slams the ball down for the final time and Oikawa comes marching over to where the coaching staff are sitting and grabs Hajime by the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t come to gloat though, he doesn’t really say anything at all, he just kisses him so hard that he thinks both of their lips might be bruised.

“Well at least we know who Iwaizumi-san’s wife is now,” Yaku says quietly as the entire stadium roars even louder than it did before and Oikawa skips away back to his teammates. Hajime just sits there, dazed before he covers his face in embarrassment and laughs.

* * *

DOUBLE BONUS:

The entire team gathers around a pile of flowers, photos and mementos in Ushijima’s garden. They’re all wearing black and there’s a low mournful silence.

“We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of a great era,” Atsumu says, solemn and head bowed, “the Great Flirting with Iwaizumi-san, possibly the best and sexiest athletic trainer the world has ever seen.”

“It was such a beautiful time,” Bokuto sniffs, wiping tears away from his eyes.

“Yes, it will be missed. Now, light the pyre!” Atsumu shouts, Hinata and Hoshiumi both throw lit matches into the pile which consists of all the sexy photos that they had secretly taken of Iwaizumi, a small pile of water bottles that he had helped them open and one towel.

They stand huddled around the fire until it reaches into the sky, silent and thinking about just how beautiful Iwaizumi’s back muscles really are.

“Is this normal? Should I be more worried?” Oikawa asks from inside where he and Iwaizumi are sitting, watching the entire thing happen through the French doors. Damn Ushijima really has a nice house.

“Yeah, sometimes it’s best to just let them do their thing,” Iwaizumi shrugs, watching Atsumu sob into Sakusa’s shoulder, he’s pretty sure they only started dating out of a mutual love of his biceps, “if they set fire to the lawn that’s when it’s time to intervene.”

Slowly, slowly the fire smoulders into ash and together the team take a deep breath, bonded by their love of Iwaizumi’s delicious muscles and ready to take a step into a new world.

**Author's Note:**

> hehe if u liked pls leave a comment and a kudo! I might write some more but from the team's perspective if ppl like this...... bc genuinely forgot how fun it is to write just complete crack lmao...... but yeah gimme a shout if u want to see more! edit: probably not gonna write more sorry but thank u for all the love 😭


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